I dream that I’m trying to shower in a room full of people, I’m begging them to please, please leave or at least look the other way so I can take off my clothes. One of the people is my coworker S., he’s upset about my work performance, I guess.
Then I dream that my favorite TV couple are back together. I’m so happy, and yet even in my subconscious I know it’s too good to be true, I scroll down twitter to find any news about it. There is none.
I dream that it’s Christmas and I’m mad at my family for forgetting lunch, it’s already 4 P.M. I end up having a panic attack, they laugh in my face.
I’m on my own now, scrolling down Twitter. I find the video of a baby sitting in a pram that lost control and is plummeting towards a house on fire. The baby flies out and we see a close up of his rubbery face bouncing against the wall, then the video cuts to an explosion. The whole thing is obviously fake, a giant Warner Bros logo blinks in the sky behind the house.
I watch the video over and over until it becomes real and the baby appears in the air in front of me. His body is shaped like a star and he has four heads, white as milk.
I’m looked in the bathroom and I have a toddler and a baby with me, they’re brothers. The older one is two and his name is William, he has pooped on his brother’s face and his diaper has flown out the window, so I’m scrambling to get them both cleaned. I end up having to call my mother for help, she’s very surprised at how I seem to have acquired two children. We carry them to my bedroom and there are two birds trapped inside, flapping around madly, a pigeon and a seagull.
I need a bottle of frozen water, there is a vending machine on the street outside my house but it isn’t working. I go look for a freezer in my basement but I get lost, my cat is with me and we run when we see the landlord is chasing us. I hide in an apartment that looks like it’s been the set of a psychological thriller. Then I finally reach home and run inside my room, I put headphones on and hit play on a discman just as the landlord walks in. I’m now a teen boy with curly hair, the landlord takes me under his wing and becomes the father figure I never had.
There’s a tweet trending, it’s an old Russian farmer complaining about her land owner. She films a video where the land owner is seen on a tractor destroying her fields and cackling like a villain. I’m very confused because the video is stop motion and obviously fake, but nobody else on Twitter seems to notice.
Note: the man I’m gonna write about today is a rather famous person who I admire very much. I’d hate for him to accidentally find this dream where some terrible stuff happens to his actual family, I was even tempted to not record it at all. In the end I decided to leave his name out, just in case.
I’m watching a live stream. In it a man is driving a car and at the same time recording a vlog with his wife and children. A terrible accident happens, an explosion. We see the younger child, no more than a toddler, buried by rock and debris, his face burnt and bloody. The older brother is also badly burned. The father looks into the phone camera he’s recording with, his face covered in soot and deadly scared, and tells the audience he’s gonna run for help.
The day goes by slowly, I keep thinking about the accident, wondering what happened, checking Twitter for updates. Finally the man tweets something. A Christian prayer, and then a picture of his younger son with a heartbreaking epitaph. I’m not surprised, the child was badly hurt. But where is the brother?
The live stream starts again, we are showed the other child. His black t-shirt and jeans are burned, it’s night and he’s walking alone into a drive-in restaurant. Inside, standing under neon lights on the shiny floor tiles, there’s no other than Emperor Palpatine. He tries to turn the child to the dark side, but gets stabbed in return: the boy killed him!
People on the Internet rejoice at seeing the boy alive and well, but I’m growing suspicious. The car accident, the fight with Palpatine, it all looked kind of… staged, produced even. Was it all a lie? An excuse for this boy get away with murder? Did the father even got as far as sacrificing his own younger child to get the older one to succeed? I feel shaken.
Another quick dream, because I slept in this Sunday morning.
I notice at the supermarket colorful cardboard boxes on a shelf. I look closer and see pictured on the boxes a set of vintage 90s mugs, just like the ones I used to have breakfast in as a kid! I buy three, one with Chip ‘n Dale, one with Mickey and Donald, and one with Tony the Tiger.
I run home all excited, I want to show them to my sister. She’s sitting on the toilet but doesn’t seem to mind. We open a box and we are immediately overwhelmed by the smell of artificial chocolate, it’s really bad. There are no functional mugs inside, just three plastic replicas with Styrofoam cereal in it. They are cute and colorful, but quite useless.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 